


Black Wings and Starlight

by ardentiia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Fluff, Lost Ballroom of Gold Zine, Masquerade, Mentioned Claude von Riegan, Mentioned Hilda gets bribed by fabric, Mentioned Marianne von Edmund, Mentioned My Unit | Byleth, Rarepair, i've never written hildagard before so i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-25 04:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30083259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentiia/pseuds/ardentiia
Summary: They stare at each other for a moment. She’s never seen anybody like her, with eyes of steel and cold fire. But at the same time, she looks as familiar as Hilda’s own reflection, a deep, hidden part of her calling out in answer.She opens her mouth. Questions dance on the tip of her tongue, the same questions she can see mirrored in the other girl’s eyes. But before either of them can speak, she hears her name being called from across the ballroom.---Written for the Lost Ballroom of Gold zine!
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: A Lost Ballroom of Gold





	Black Wings and Starlight

Hilda follows in Holst’s footsteps, gazing around the room with wide doe eyes. The arching columns, the glowing chandeliers, the chatter of nobles on the ballroom floor—all so familiar, yet distant, removed from her reality like a dream she can only catch a glimpse of.

People smile down at her, wine glasses in hand, watching like hawks from the masks concealing their eyes. It’s not the first ball of the year, nor will it be the last; she always hated the stuffiness of the other nobles, the etiquette and effort required to simply be presentable. She’d rather be out _there_ , among the stars, the sky, the grass, the trees that bend in the wind. 

But as a Goneril daughter, she cannot. She has a _duty_ , her mother always says, prompting Hilda to stick her tongue out and flounce away when she was younger, and barely restrain herself from rolling her eyes now that she’s older. Usually, she’s able to ask her parents to give her a pass so that she can design a new outfit or make necklaces for the chefs that’d survive the wear and tear of the kitchen, but not this time. 

No, this ball is _special_. 

“Hilda, you’re of age to begin finding your soulmate,” her father had reminded her before the party. “This ball could change your entire life. Your mother and I-”

Hilda had cut him off, thanking him quickly and rushing away to get her costume in order. Nobles were always blathering on about _soulmates this_ and _soulmates that_ , but frankly, she couldn’t see what all the fuss was.

But even if she didn’t care that this ball was special, nevertheless, she must be on her _best behavior_. And if she succeeds, she’ll get more of that lovely fabric she spotted in the marketplace last week...

Daydreaming about all the outfits she’ll be able to make, the barest flicker of flame catches her eye. She turns to the left. The sea of people parts, and suddenly, she’s face to face with a girl her age, white hair drifting in an unparted sheet down her back. Amethyst eyes and a dress of the deepest night contrast her fair skin, a pair of wings flaring out behind her in an elegant display. A small circlet sits atop her head, golden metal sparkling in the chandelier light.

They stare at each other for a moment. She’s never seen anybody like her, with eyes of steel and cold fire. But at the same time, she looks as familiar as Hilda’s own reflection, a deep, hidden part of her calling out in answer.

She opens her mouth. Questions dance on the tip of her tongue, the same questions she can see mirrored in the other girl’s eyes. But before either of them can speak, she hears her name being called from across the ballroom. 

“Hilda!”

She starts a little. In that moment, it’s as if time unfreezes, and the girl slips away into the tidal wave of people swirling around them on the dance floor. 

“Wait-” Hilda reaches out a hand, desperate to chase after that mysterious feeling still tugging at her chest. But instead of the girl, Holst appears, holding on to her arm like a liferaft here to save her from the depths. Yet somehow, she feels even farther from shore than before, land fading away right in front her eyes.

“You scared her away!” She yanks her arm away, but feels immediately guilty about it after seeing the concern in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Holst’s brow furrows. “I couldn’t find you in the crowd, and I got worried. What happened?”

“Sorry, I just…”

She stops, shaking her head. How is she supposed to explain the newly empty feeling that lingers in the back of her mind, like a dancer abandoned with no partner? It nags at her, gnaws at her, eats at her. 

If only she had gotten her name…

The rest of the night, Hilda searches for the girl, but she’s long gone. Gone to be with the stars, the sky, the grass, the trees that bend in the wind, places where Hilda can’t go, tethered to the ground in a cage of glass and brick.

Gone.

  
  


* * *

1 year later, Hilda trades her cage for another, one made of stone and holy prayer. It’s beautiful, but just as empty, haunting in its soaring spires and towering pillars. She roams around a lot during the day, making up excuses to skip class and avoid the new teacher’s watchful stare (which proves surprisingly easy, yet, sometimes she wonders if the professor somehow knows something she doesn’t). Her friends in Golden Deer watch her as well—Claude’s shrewd, secret-keeping gaze, Marianne’s worried one—but she escapes it all for as long as she can out in the open air of Garreg Mach Monastery. 

It’s on one of these days that she sees a flash of white hair, and chases after it, the tug in her heart pulling her forward. She rounds the corner and nearly smacks straight into another girl before a hand pulls her backwards.

“Ow!” Hilda hisses as a tall, spectre-like boy steps in front of her, eyes glinting threateningly as Miasma gathers around one gloved hand. “What was that for?”

“State your purpose with Lady Edelgard,” he shoots back, unwavering. 

Hilda narrows her eyes and plants her hands on her hips. “Look, _stick man_ , you can go shove that Miasma up your a-”

“Hubert, please, I’ve told you already to _not_ attack the other students,” a female voice says sternly from behind the boy, full of natural authority and command. 

Hubert’s demeanor switches in an instant. He bows low, moving to the side. “My deepest apologies, Lady Edelgard, but this girl-”

“You!”

Hilda’s eyes nearly pop out of her skull as she gapes at the girl before her. The white hair, the lavender gaze, the eagle ensemble she’d seen back then, it all falls into place. She has no decorated mask now, but she’d be able to recognize her from anywhere. 

_Edelgard_.

“Hubert, can you leave us for a bit?” Undiluted shock simmers in Edelgard’s expression, reflecting Hilda’s. 

Hubert opens his mouth to protest, but after she gives him a pointed stare, he leaves. Leaves Hilda with Edelgard, the spirit of her dreams, the ghost of her days, her invisible partner in the dance of life.

1 year later, Hilda finds the one she’s looking for. 

And the wait _totally_ isn’t fair, but somehow, the easing of the emptiness in her chest is worth it.

Somehow, Edelgard is worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I was so stressed writing this because I've never written Hildagard before and I wanted to get it just right...I hope I did this ship justice. 
> 
> Follow me on Twitter for more FE3H shenanigans! <3  
> [@ardentiia](https://twitter.com/ardentiia)


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